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THE' HIGHEST USE OF LEARNING: 



AN 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED AT HIS 



INAUGURATION TO THE PRESIDENCY 



^^ 



AMHERST COLLEGE 



BY REV. EDWARD HITCHCOCK, LL. D. 



PUBLISHED BY THE TRUSTEES. 



«^ AMHERST: 
J. S. & C. ADAMS, PRINTERS, 

1845. 




-4-y^- 



. S 

1 ii^ 



INAUGUEAL ADDRESS. 



The cause of education, in this country at least, is almost 
universally popular. Yet were we to pass around the inquiry 
among the different classes of society, why they regard it so 
important, we should probably receive very different answers. 
One man, himself uneducated, places its chief value in the 
means it affords of defence against the impositions of the de- 
signing and unprincipled. Another values it chiefly because it 
enables him to take advantage of the ignorance of the world in 
promoting his schemes of self-aggrandizement. A third looks 
upon the means which education affords for acquiring property, 
as its highest use. A fourth regards the personal reputation, 
respect, and influence, which learning bestows, as its chief ad- 
vantage. A fifth thinks of it mainly as an instrument of ad- 
vancing civilization, and multiplying the comforts and luxuries 
of life. A sixth estimates most highly its influence in elevating 
the lower classes of the community above the condition of mere 
animals and drudges, and in making them understand that the 
body is not the only part of man to be cared for. A seventh 
places the highest use of learning in its power of disciplining 
and liberalizing the mind, and delivering it from vulgar fears, 
superstitions, and prejudices ; and in giving to men just views 
of their rights, relations, and destinies. An eighth thinks most 
of the boundless fields of enjoyment which knowledge opens to 
the human mind, of a far more noble and refined kind than any 
dependent upon animal nature. A ninth makes its most import- 
ant use to consist in its bearings upon religion, both natural and 
revealed. 



Now in my opinion, this ninth man has the right of the mat- 
ter most decidedly ; and yet, I fear that his opinion is not the 
most common, or the most popular. But to my conviction, the 
religious applications of learning are by far its most important 
use : and the occasion seems to be a fit one to defend and il- 
lustrate this opinion. It needs, I believe, both defence and il- 
lustration. For though the belief is general that religion may 
derive some benefit from particular branches of learning, there is 
still an impression lingering on many minds, that some sciences 
are unfriendly in their bearings upon religion ; and that others 
have no relations to religion. Much less is it generally believed 
that the strongest reason why we should sustain common 
schools, Academies, and Colleges, is, that we are thus promot- 
ing the cause of true religion. But if this be indeed true, then, 
when we give our property, our influence, or ourselves, to the 
cause of learning, we shall do it with a heartier good will and a 
more entire consecration ; and we shall the more cheerfully 
bear up under the trials, fatigues, disappointments, and per- 
plexities, that lie in our path. 

I would not, indeed, undervalue the secular advantages of 
learning. They are so obvious and so important, that I could 
not do it if I would. Those whose experience reaches back 
fifty, or forty, or even thirty years, have evidence in their own 
consciousness of the economical value of learning, too strong to 
be overcome by any speculative argument depreciating its impor- 
tance. When we compare the present condition of the worId,and 
our own condition, with what they were in our early days, — we 
cannot but be deeply impressed with the rapid progress of socie- 
ty, and the multiplication of secular advantages, and the means 
of comfort and happiness, growing out of the advancement of 
learning. Branches of science and literature, which, at the be- 
ginning of this century, were tabooed to all who were not resi- 
dents within the walls of Universities and Colleges, and even 
some branches that scarcely had an existence then, are now the 
theme of famihar conversation in the workshop, on the farm, 
in the stage-coach, the rail car, the steamboat, and the pack- 
et. And so simplified are the elementary principles of many 
of these branches, as to be brought within the comprehension of 



the child at the primary school. Instead of the stinted sources 
of information then possessed, in a few small newspapers and 
periodicals in some of the larger cities, and a few republica- 
tions of small European works, the country is now flooded with 
newspapers of all sizes below one that will swallow up an octa- 
vo, and with periodicals and books to suit all tastes, and all purs- 
es, and all fancies, from the penny pamphlet up to the seven 
hundred dollar volume of Audubon. 

Still more striking has been the progress of the useful arts 
from the application of scientific principles. In Great Britain, 
at this moment, steam performs a work that would require the 
unaided labor of more than four hundred millions of men ; and 
a work as great probably in proportion to the population, in 
our own country. Improvements in machinery and in chemical 
processes have doubtless within this century made a still greater 
deduction from the amount of labor necessary ; and these im- 
provements reach every class of the community ; pointing out 
to them an easier path to competence, and affording them lei- 
sure to cultivate their intellectual and moral powers. Then too, 
how striking the change in respect to intercommunication, both 
on land and water. We now hardly give a serious parting to 
our friend who starts upon a trip of only some five hundred or 
a thousand miles, so soon shall we see him again. And even 
when v/e have bid him adieu, as he starts on foreign travel, we 
hardly begin to reckon his absence by months, certainly not as 
formerly by years, ere he greets us again ; having made the 
tour of Europe, or perhaps stood within the Holy City, or coast- 
ed the shores of the Black Sea and the Caspian, or gone down 
the Red Sea to India and the Celestial Empire, and returning 
by the Isthmus of Panama, has completed the circuit of the 
globe. And besides the problem has just been solved, of carry- 
ing on a conversation and transacting business with our friend 
when absent, even though hundreds, and it may be thousands 
<of miles, intervene between us. 

Now these are advantages derived from the progress of learn- 
ing so obvious as to be known and read of all men ; and, there- 
fore, we are apt to suppose them the chief advantages. Where- 
as the applications of literary and scientific truths to religion 



lie more out of sight, and can be appreciated fully, only by 
him, who is well acquainted both with learning and religion ; 
and who looks at their relations with the eye of a philosopher. 
We must dwell a little, therefore, upon these relations in order 
to sustain the position that has been taken. 

I need not argue before such an audience as this, the superi- 
or importance of religious principles to all others. This will 
be admitted ; for all other truths have reference to time, these 
to eternity : all others regard man's mortal, these his immortal 
interests : all others are limited by created natures ; these centre 
in the uncreated God. Religious principles, therefore, are in 
their very nature of infinite moment. Other truths have grada- 
tions of value : but these are invaluble, because necessarily im- 
mortal and infinite. Every thing, therefore, in literature or sci- 
ence, that discovers, illustrates, or confirms, the eternal principles 
of religion, swells into an importance proportionably great. It 
remains, then, only to show that the wide fields of learning af- 
ford us such illustrations over their entire surface, and the posi- 
tion will be made out, that the religious applications of literature 
and science, are the most important of all their relations ; and 
that consequently, when we consecrate our property, our influ- 
ence, or our lives, to the cause of education, we consecrate them 
to one of the noblest of all human enterprises. 

Accompany me now, my friends, as we rapidly pass around 
the circle of literature and science, in order that we may see 
what are the relations between religion and the different branch- 
es of human learning. 

We meet, first, with the ancient classics, whose study forms 
so important a part of a liberal education in modern times. The 
religious principles which they contain, are, indeed, fatally 
false ; and not much more consonant with modern views, is their 
philosophy. Nevertheless, they afford most important aid in 
elucidating revelation. The very absurdity of the mythology 
and philosophy of the classics, brings out by contrast, in bolder 
relief the beauties and glories of Christian doctrines and Christ- 
ian philosophy ; and instead of leading the student to embrace 
polytheism, they prepare his mind for the reception of the Gos- 
pel. Besides, many passages of Scripture would be unintelligi- 



ble, and others unimpressive, without that knowledge of ancient 
opinions and manners which the classics disclose. And then 
too, how unfit to give a correct interpretation of Scripture is he, 
who is unacquainted with the languages in which it was original- 
ly written. It does not prove this position false, to state, what 
is certainly true, that many men have faithfully preached th# 
Gospel and been instrumental of the conversion of great num- 
bers, who were ignorant of classical literature. So there have 
been surgeons and physicians, unacquainted with anatomy, phy- 
siology, and chemistry ; and they may have performed many 
skillful operations and effected many cures, and thus done much 
good. But other things being equal, no one would feel as safe 
in the hands of such practitioners as in those familiar with the 
structure of the human system, and with the laws that govern it, 
and with the chemical nature and action of medicines. In dif- 
ficult cases such practitioners would shrink from prescriptions 
and operations ; or if they rashly attempted them, would be 
very likely to tie the omo-hyoid muscle instead of the carotid 
artery ; or to administer nitric acid in connection with mercury ; 
or by some analogous blunder,to put the patient's life in jeopardy. 
And mistakes alike dangerous, sometimes infinitely more so, 
because they involve the loss of the soul, must he be liable to 
make, who engages in the ministerial office, ignorant of the ori- 
ginal languages in which the scriptures were written. And if, 
one such fatal mistake should result from his ignorance, what a 
terrible drawback would it be upon a whole life of devoted use- 
fulness. 

In modern times human learning has become so prodigously 
expanded, and so many new branches have been established, 
that it is difficult to discourse intelligibly concerning it with- 
out defining the terms which we employ. In France and 
Germany, the word Literature, embraces the whole circle of 
written knowledge ; and with many English writers it has the 
same wide signification. But often the meaning is restricted to 
those branches which treat of the social, moral, and intellectual 
relations of man. Pohte Literature, or Belles Lettres, is still 
more limited in its meaning ; embracing poetry, oratory, and 
perhaps history, biography, and some other miscellaneous sub- 



s 

jects. The term science is applied to those branches whose 
principles are considered as well settled ; and with the excep- 
tion of some parts of mathematics, the term is chiefly confined 
to the material world ; although moral science, and intellectual 
science, are pharses frequently used. 

Adopting these definitions, we might arrange all human 
knowledge under the three heads of Literature, Science and Art. 
Let us first inquire into the influence of modern literature upon 
religion. 

And here it must be acknowledged in the outset, that not a 
little of the influence of modern polite literature has been very 
disastrous to religion. For much of it has been prepared by 
men who were intemperate, or licentious, and secretly or openly 
hostile to Christianity ; at least to its peculiar doctrines. And 
their writings have been deeply imbued with immorality, or in- 
fidelity, or atheism. Yet the poison has been often so inter- 
woven with those fascinations of style, or thought, characteristic 
of genius, as to be unnoticed by the youthful mind, delighted 
with smartness and brilliancy. And even when the plague 
spots have been pointed out, it has tended, like the prohibition 
of the fruit of the tree of knowledge in Eden, to excite an irre- 
sistible desire to open the proscribed volumes, even though they 
should prove a second box of Pandora. 

Perhaps no branch of literature has been oftener and more 
successfully employed as a vehicle for the propagation of infidel 
opinions, than history. Rightly understood, and faithfully in- 
terpreted, it gives strong light and confirmation to revelation 
and to morality. But sceptical ingenuity has often been able 
to make its voice as ambiguous as a Delphic Oracle, and as falla- 
cious as ventriloquism. In Pagan Greece and Rome, their his- 
torians, except perhaps Tacitus, were even over credulous on 
the subject of polytheistic religion. And so in modern times, 
previous to the last century, the historian was usually the sup- 
porter of revealed truth. But the talented yet anomalous Bayle, 
in that manual of irreligion, his Critical Dictionary, led the way 
in converting facts into an engine against Christianity. Voltaire 
and others learnt the lesson, which was perfected by Gibbon 
and Hume. So often however have their sophistries and cavils 
been exposed that it is only the unwary who are now entrapped. 
The great mass of Historical literature also, your Rollin and 



Ramsay, Muller. Schlegel, Heeren, Goldsmith, Smollet, Russell, 
Turner, Robertson, and a multitude of others, are favorable to 
religion ; although a Von Rotteck, in the costume of a baptized 
infidel, rejects biblical history as fabulous. Religion, therefore, 
need have no fears from her alliance with history : and, indeed, 
she may hope for many a rich harvest of illustration and confir- 
mation from future researches : for there are other papyri to be 
unrolled, other hieroglyphics to be decyphered, and other Sir 
William Joneses and Champollions to be raised up. 

Another most sacrilegious perversion of polite literature con- 
sists in clothing immorality and irreligion in the vestal robe of 
poetry. I say sacrilegious ; for poetry is the natural handmaid of 
pure religion. Hence it was chosen by the Holy Ghost as the 
appropriate language of prophets and other inspired men. But 
it is the appropriate language of all strong emotions ; and may, 
therefore, be employed for giving an attractive dress to immoral 
and irreligious sentiments, as well as to those which are virtuous 
and holy. Accordingly, so wide has been this misapplication 
of the poetic talent, that in almost every age, its highest efforts 
have been consecrated to polytheism, or war, or amorous in- 
trigues, or intemperance, or to secure favor from the great, by 
flattering their vanity. Indeed, though the Old Testament is 
full of poetry, and though it has ever been employed in the re- 
ligious worship of Jews and Christians, yet it seems not to have 
been imagined till lately, that this delightful art had been per- 
verted and degraded by being employed to sustain heathenism, 
and to pander to intemperance, licentiousness, and war ; nor that 
it could ever be made thoroughly Christian, and thus exalted in 
character and effect. The great poets of antiquity were so fully 
heathen, and some of them, as Anacreon and Horace, had woven 
so many garlands for the intoxicating cup, that it seems to have 
been taken for granted that the muse could never be made to 
pour forth numbers as sweet and enticing on loftier and purer 
themes. Even the splendid efforts of Milton and Dante, did 
not open the eyes of Christians to the true use of poetry. In- 
deed, the polytheistic and warlike numbers of Horner and Vir- 
gil, and the Bacchanalian songs of the ancient lesser poets were 
piety and purity, compared to the philosophic blasphemy of 
2 



10 

Shelley, the atheism and profligacy of Byron and Moore, and, 
must I add, the Bacchanalian songs of Robert Burns. Further- 
more, if it be true, as Milton affirmed, that a poet's life is itself a 
true poem, we shall be obliged sadly to swell the list of modern 
poems devoted to vice and irreligion. For when biography in- 
forms us that Addison, Prior, and Steele, were intemperate, that 
Thompson was a voluptuary. Goldsmith dissipated, Sterne a 
decided sensualist, and that even Johnson could practice absti- 
nence but not temperance, and when we know, that though 
Pope's constitution was too delicate to allow him to indulge in 
luxurious excesses, yet his writings show a bad pre-eminence 
of wantonness and indecency, we are led to exclaim with Mil- 
ton, 

"God of our fathers, what is man ! 
Nor do I name of men the common route. 
That wandering loose abroad, 
Grow up and perish as the summer fly ; 
Heads without name, no more remember'd ; 
But such as thou hast solemnly elected, 
With gifts and graces eminently adorned. 
For some great work, thy glory." 

And then too, consider the moral character of modern dra- 
matic poetry, so decidedly worse than the noble tragic poetry 
of antiquity. From the days of Dryden to the present, (for 
even Shakspeare with all his splendid moral sentiments was 
undoubtedly a libertine in principle and practice,) scarcely a 
dramatic poet has appeared whose "entire unweeded volumes," 
as Hannah INIorc calls them, can be conscientiously recommend- 
ed, save the Comus and Samson Agonistes of Milton, and a 
few other plays of kindred character. We have seen too, that 
Lyric poetry, — more influential than any other upon public 
morals, — has been prostituted to the cause of intemperance and 
revelry, from the time when Anacreon indited his '^j"; ."tAaim 
nivtt, and Horace his Nu7ic est bibendum, down to the period 
when Burns exclaimed, 

•'We'll take a cup of kindness yet 
For auld lang syne ;" 

or still later, when the echo came from Moore ; 



11 

"Friend of my life, this wine cup sip." 

But thanks be to God, that in these latter days he has crea- 
ted some greater and some lesser Christian lights, and placed 
them in the poetic firmament ; where they already begin to rule 
the day and the night. First came Milton : a permanent sun ; 
not immaculate indeed, but full of glory, and destined for a long 
time to rule the day. Then appeared a milder luminary ; fore- 
most in the train of evening, and delightful to look upon, as 
reflected from the volumes of Cowper. And a noble train of 
kindred lights, most of them, indeed, lesser stars, have since shone 
in the literary heavens, bearing the names of Watts, Heber, 
Montgomery, Young, and others ; to which I might add several 
lights that have dotted flie darkness of our western hemisphere. 
We were also startled, not long since, by the flash of a meteor, 
shooting athwart the eastern heavens, and having marked out 
the Course of Time, vanishing from sight, 

" As sets the nsoming star, which goes not down 
Behind the darkened west, nor hides obscur'd 
Among the tempest of the sky, but melts away 
Into the light of beaven." 

Nor ought I to omit to point to that noble luminary, which, for so 
long a period, has been burning with a mild and steady light above 
the lakes and mountains of northern England; and which gives us 
some foretaste of what the literary hemisphere will be, when po- 
etic inspiration shall consent to receive a higher inspiration from 
the fountain of Scripture ; far purer than Castalia. To bring about 
that golden age of poetry, should be the grand object of its culti- 
vators ; especially of those who can claim the nasc?>«r,non^^ 
Then and not till then, will it be seen how noble an auxiliary to 
virtue and religion is the poetic element in man. 

There is another department of polite literature that has been, 
still more than poetry, monopolized by vice and irreligion ; and 
which, I fear, will be still harder to reclaim. To minds averse 
to close thinking ; to those whose tastes and habits are all artifi- 
cial, and who have never acquired a relish for the beauties and 
wonders of nature ; as well as to those who are the slaves of ap- 
petite and passion ; the novel and the romance have ever pos- 
sessed irresistible attractions. And since, these three classes 



12 

form, to a greater or less extent, the principal part of society, 
this is the literature that is most widely and abundantly diffused. 
And while the demand has created a supply, so, according to 
a principle of political economy, a surplus supply has increased 
the demand. The pen and the press have been prolific beyond 
all precedent ; and the quality, of the article has varied according 
to the demands of fashion. At one time the gross and disgust- 
ing descriptions of Fielding and Smollett met the popular taste. 
Anon, what Hannah More calls the "non-morality" of the Great 
Unknown, was in excellent ^om/. And since that prolific fountain 
has been dried up, others, who, alas for the cause of virtue and 
religion, are too well known, have not failed to disgorge tales of 
all sorts, suited to every variety of appetite, from the most deli- 
cate and refined to the most gross and grovelling. For like the 
frogs of Egypt, these productions have not been confined to the 
loudoirs of the literati, nor to the centre tables and withdrawing 
rooms of wealth and fashion : but have found their way to the 
kneeding troughs of the kitchen ; coming there, it may be, in one 
of those enormous products of the modern press, that might be 
mistaken for a winding sheet ; and which I fear has proved the 
winding sheet of many a noble intellect. 

I am aware that not a few authors, disgusted with these per- 
versions of ficticious literature, have made many praise-worthy 
efforts lo turn its current into the channels of virtue and relig- 
ion. Nor have they failed to obtain many interested readers. 
But I fear that in most cases it is the well arranged story, and 
not its moral, which has awakened interest : 

" First raising a combustion of desire, 
With some cold moral they would queach the fire." 

But Leviathan is not so tamed. Yet the fact that the love 
of novelty is so strong naturally in the heart, shows us, that in 
some way or other, it was meant to be gratified. And when we 
learn that the wonders of nature far transcend the wonders of 
romance, is it not evident, that if men can be brought to love 
nature, and those branches of knowledge which unlock her 
Elysian fields, this desire can be fully satisfied with reaUties, 
without the aid of fiction. I have Uttle hope that any success- 



13 

ful headway can be made against that morbid love of fiction, 
which has become the almost universal passion, until you can 
implant in man's heart a love of unsophisticated nature. This 
once done, and the fascinations of romance would become pow- 
erless under the overmastering influence of the new affection. 
To restore nature, therefore, to the throne of the heart, and ex- 
pel the meretricious usurper, is the noble work that lies be- 
fore the scholar of the nineteenth century. And when it shall 
be accomplished, as I doubt not it will be, and the deluge of fic- 
titious literature, that now almost buries the civilized world, shall 
have passed into the limbo of forgetful ness, it will be found that 
a mighty barrier to the progress of true knowledge and true 
religion has been taken out of the way, and that the heart which 
is alive to natures beauties, is vvell prepared to love the God of 
nature, as well as the God of revelation. 

It is not necessary to spend time in showing that rhetoric and 
oratory, two other important branches of polite literature, are 
capable of the same perversion to unworthy purposes, as the 
subjects already noticed. In every human heart there are chords, 
which, when struck by the silver bow of the rhetorician, or the 
magic wand of the orator, cannot but vibrate and give back a 
response. But when stormy passion, or reckless irreligion, 
sweeps over those chords, they return only discordant sounds, 
that grate harshly upon the ear of virtue and piety. But when 
they are touched by the delicate and skillful hands of true be- 
nevolence, the tones which they return, resemble the music of 
heaven ; and they excite the spirit of heaven all around. To 
promote that spirit is doubtless the grand object to which the 
Creator intended the flowers of rhetoric and the strains of elo- 
quence should be devoted. How immensely important, then, 
that Christian scholars should rescue these branches from the 
hands of the unprincipled and the wicked, and convert them to 
their legitimate use, as auxiliaries of virtue and religion ! 

Some worthy men, I know, look with a jealous eye upon the 
use of rhetorical and oratorical skill in aid of religion. Thev 
feel as if no attempt should be made to set off" and recommend 
the naked truth. But as remarked by Dr. Campbell, how much 
better for the minister of the Gospel to write so as to make tho 



14 

critic turn Christian, than to write so as to make the Christian 
turn critic ! How much deeper the effect, for example, upon 
every mind, could the advocate of religion in his descriptions, 
follow the rule so beautifully illustrated by Pope : 

" True ease in writing eomes from art, not chance; 
As those move easiest who have learnt to dance. 
'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence; 
The sound must seem an echo to the sense. 
Soft is the strain when Zephj-r gently Mows, 
And the smooth stream in smootlier numbers flows ; 
But when loud surges lash the sounding shore. 
The hoarse rouyh verse should like the torrent roar. 
When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, 
The line too labors and the words move slow. 
Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain. 
Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main." 

What student has not felt the thrilling influence of the 
no).v(p}.oia^oio 6ixXaaar,g of Homcr ? Or Still morc to my purpose, 
how striking the contrast between the opening of the gates of 
Heaven and of Hell, as described by Milton : 

" Heaven opened wide her ever during gates, 

On golden hinges turning: 

The infernal gates 
Wide open flew, on iron hinges turning. 
Grating harsh thunder." 

Now it is not in human nature to avoid receiving a powerful 
impression from such a skillful choice and collocation of words : 
and why should not religion avail itself of this means of giving 
truth a keener edge ? It may, indeed, be carried to excess ; as 
Dante seems to have done in his descriptions of the physical tor- 
ments of perdition : but Milton, while he has given an awful 
distinctness and force to those same torments, has not exagge- 
rated them : and why may not religion use this power, as any 
other proper means, to impress Divine truth ? In this respect, 
thus far, the children of this world have been wiser than the 
children of light. 

In passing from literature to science, on the great circle of 
human knowledge, we meet with intellectual and moral philoso- 
phy. But so obvious is the connection between the latter and 
the principles of religion, that we need not delay upon its eluci- 
dation. For every theory of morals, that is not radically defec- 



15 

tive, makes the origin of moral obligation identical with that of 
religious obligation. So that in fact, moral philosophy is only one 
branch of natural theology. I regard politics, also, or the prin- 
ciples by which nations should be governed and regulated, as 
only a branch of ethics ; or, rather as a special application of 
the principles of morality and religion : though I greatly fear, 
that expediency and self interest have thus far been the basis of 
political action more frequently than moral or religious princi- 
ple. By some writers, intellectual philosophy, or psychology, or 
metaphysics, as they would rather choose to denominate the 
science, has been supposed, upon the whole, quite disastrous to 
religion. For when they consult ecclesiastical history, they find 
that the most fatal errors in religion have usually been based 
upon some false system of metaphysics ; and that behind its hy- 
pothetical and unintelligible dogmas, the ablest sceptics have en- 
trenched themselves. They regard " the modern philosophy of 
the human mind, for the most part, as a mere system of abstrac- 
tions," "having almost nothing to offer of practical instruction ;" 
and although " the philosophy of the agency of sentient and 
voluntary beings is a matter of rational curiosity, — it is nothing 
more." 

I quote here, for the most part, the language of an able recent 
author. But admitting the truth of these statements, they show 
one thing at least ; that unless theologians are familiar with the 
systems of mental philosophy, so ably defended by eminent 
men, how can they hope to expose and refute such men when 
they employ metaphysical subtleties to pervert religious truth ? 
If the theologist does not display equal acuteness with the 
ontologist, the latter will triumph in his assaults upon religion. 
And if it be a false metaphysical philosophy, that has led a man 
to adopt a false religious creed, how important that the advocate 
of religion should be able to meet the errorist on his own ground, 
and not only to show him that he started wrong, but to put him 
upon the right track. " If it be a murky or misty region," says 
a late writer, " carry the blazing torch of demonstrated truth in- 
to every cloudy cave and den, encompass every fastness where 
error lurks, and pour in the fire of a burning logic. The surest 
way to get protection from the open, and especially the secret 



16 

ravages of a mischievous beast, is to hunt him down in his own 
lair."* 

But it is said, that all experience shows that there is no safety 
save in keeping religion entirely aloof from metaphysics. What 
centuries of disaster followed the attempt of the ancient fathers 
to incorporate the metaphysics of Platonism with Christianity ? 
And how much longer in the dark ages, did the pall of igno- 
rance and a perverted Christianity rest upon the world, because 
it was held down by the Peripatetic Philosophy, resting on it 
like an incubus ! In our own day, too, we have seen a glacial 
period commence, in a portion of the Church, from the freezing 
influence of German metaphysics ; which threatens to be as 
long and as rigid as the analogous geological period. 

Now were the question, whether it were better for men to re- 
ceive with child-like confidence the declarations of the Bible, 
without reference to ontological systems, all probably would re- 
ply in the affimative. But the difficulty is, that ingenious and 
speculative men will construct their philosophical strait jackets, 
into which they will force the doctrines of revelation. And 
when the friends of piety see that religion is panting and almost 
strangled by this cramping Procrustean process, how shall they 
liberate her ? They must have help to do it ; and denunciation 
and mere zeal will not bring help. They must show by a care- 
ful examination and measurement of the entire warp, and woof, 
and cut, of this philosophical dress, that however agreeable it 
may be to the latest fashion, it cramps the heart and the vitals, 
stops the circulation of the blood, and is shrivelling up the ex- 
tremities ; and then will all the friends of religion join in strip- 
ping ofT the murderous vestment. Do you suppose that the errors 
of Platonism, and the peripatetic philosophy would ever have 
been weeded out from Christian doctrines, except by men who 
had so thoroughly examined them as to be in no danger of pluck- 
ing up the truth also ? Who but metaphysicians could have ex- 
orcised that famous Plastic Nature, conjured from the " vasty 
deep," by so powerful a necromancer as Cudworth ? Who but 
men versed in the subtleties of dreamy abstractions, could have 
coped successfully with the Scottish prince of sceptics, when he 
had gathered a dense fog around him, and under cover of it had 

• Prof. Fiakfl'» Address at East Windsor, p. 8. 



17 

assailed the first principles of all religion ? Had Kant been un- 
skilled in the abtruse speculations of mental philosophy, he 
could not so effectually have demolished the pantheism of Spi- 
noza ; and still more essential is such knowledge to show the 
fallacy of those more recent forms of the same doctrine, the 
natural pantheism of Schelling, and the idealism of Fichte. 

Another effort of the German mind is to show that the argu- 
ment from design, to prove the Divine Existence, as advanced 
by Derham, Ray, Paley, and the Bridgewater Treatises, is false ; 
and that the idea of God is derived from a sort of intuition of 
the pure reason ; nor could the external world possibly excite 
the idea of God. These opinions have gained not a little cre- 
dence in this country ; falling in, as they do, with what is called 
a spiritual philosophy, or transcendentalism. Now that there 
is a moral order in the world, and in the mind itself, and that the 
understanding, perceiving this, naturally infers that a Being of 
Infinite Moral Perfections must be the author of both, — because 
we instinctively refer every effect to a cause, — cannot be doubt- 
ed. But on this view, this moral argument, as it is called, be- 
comes only a single example of the argument from design ; and 
by no means invalidates or supersedes other forms of the argu- 
ment derived from the external world. Dr. Paley's argument 
was, indeed, defective ; because he did not refer to mental 
philosophy to prove the spirituality of the Deity : But that de- 
fect is abundantly supplied by Chalmers, Crombie, and Brough- 
am : so that now, the argument which Paley labored to estab- 
lish, is impregnable ; But it will require the vigorous efforts of 
men versed in abtruse metaphysics, to bring it out of the fog 
and dust with which it has been enveloped. 

I have alluded to transcendentalism, dignified as it has been 
by the name of " spiritual philosophy," in distinction from the 
Baconian of inductive, which is called '•' sensuous." This is, 
also, a product of German metaphysics ; and when one sees 
what an absolutely unintelligible jargon is used in its enuncia- 
tion, by its ablest originators, such as Fitchte, Schelling, and 
Hegel, he finds it difficult to conceive how it has exerted such 
an influence upon religion. But the fact is, there is always to 
some minds, especially in youth, a wonderful charm in a philoso- 



IS 

phy that is esoteric. They love to behave themselves capable 
of discovering a hidden meaning in facts and principles, which 
the uninitiated cannot discover. Hence, let some man of real 
talents and learning, as Swedenborg for instance, solemnly and 
pertinaciously declare that he does "see what is not to be seen," 
and he will not want followers, who soon come to have a clear 
vision for double senses and spiritual meanings. Indeed, a 
man of talents has only to be obscure in his style an(f meaning, 
in order to be regarded by a large proportion of the world, and 
among them not a few recently fledged literati, as very profound. 
On the contrary, that beautiful simplicity and clearness of style 
and thought, which are the result of long and patient thoug'ht, and 
which characterize the highest order of talent, are regarded by 
the same class as evidence of a superficial mind and destitution 
of genius. Accordingly, the temptation is very strong with writ- 
ers and public speakers, who vi'ould be popular, to wrap them- 
selves in the mantle of mystery and obscurity ; so that the re- 
mark of Dr. Griffin is too true, that the last attainment of the 
orator is simplicity : and we may say the same, also, in respect 
to the philosopher. But if men of talents will mount in the 
air balloon of metaphysical speculation, into transcendental re- 
gions of clouds and nebulae, and through their speaking trumpets 
announce the discovery of new worlds, unknown to the Bible or 
to science ; Christian men must ascend after them, in a sim- 
ilar vehicle, bearing with them the torch of truth, to ascertain 
whether a fog bank has not been mistaken for a planet. 

I have thus far spoken of the value of mental science as a 
necessary means of detecting religious errors, originating in the 
same science. But it has also many direct and important bear- 
ings upon religious truth. But did the time permit me to point 
them out, it would be little more than a repetition of what has 
been recently said better and more fully than I can do, by one 
of my colleagues.* I pass, therefore, to another important sign 
in the great zodiac of human knowledge. On that circle math- 
ematics follows naturally after metaphysics, because it furnishes 
us with the noblest examples of abstract truth in the universe. 

But I fancy that I hear one and another whispering, " what 
possible connection can there be between mathematics and re- 

* Prof. Fiske's Address at East Windsor. 



19 

llgion ?" The pure abstractions of this science do not, indeed, 
lead the mind directly to a Deity ; since they may be conceived 
to be necessary and eternal truths. Tliey are not the result of 
an induction from facts, but of a comparison of ideas. And it 
is the facts of the -natural world that most strikingly discover to 
us the wonders of adaptation and design, and lead the mind ir- 
resistibly to infer a Supreme Being. But what is the basis 
on which most of this adaptation and design rest ? Chiefly, I 
answer, the laws of mathematics. Look up to the heavens, 
and you will find those laws controlling all the movements of 
suns and planets with infallible precision. Every movement on 
earth, also, which is either mechanical or chemical, is equally de- 
pendent upon mathematical laws. Vital operations, too, so far 
as they result from chemical and mechanical forces, must be 
referred to the same principles. I do not assert that life and 
intellect are governed by mathematical laws : but their opera- 
tions have all the precision of mathematics ; and I doubt ^ not 
could be predicted by angelic minds, certainly by the Deity, 
with as much certainty as the astronomer foretells an eclipse, or 
transit : and really I do not see but the same principles would 
guide the calculation in the one case as in the other. In short, 
so entirely dependent are the movements of the universe upon 
mathematical laws, that to alter or annul these laws, would be 
to restore the reign of chaos and old night. Let but a single 
axiom or corollary of mathematics be changed, and I doubt 
not that wild disorder and ruin would soon take the place of 
the adaptation and beautiful design that now meet us at every 
step. Mathematics then forms the very framework of nature's 
harmonies, and is essential to the argument for a God. Instead 
•of having no connection with religion, it lies at the foundation 
of all theism. 

It seems to me, also, that mathematics aids us in the concep- 
tion of some religious truths, difficult from their nature to be 
conceived of by finite minds. All the attributes of the Deity, 
being infinite, are of this description. But the contemplation 
of an endless series in mathematics, gives us the nearest approach 
to an idea of the infinite, which we can attain. Follow the se- 
ries, indeed, as far as our powers will carry us, and we are still 



20 

no nearer the end than when we started. But we have got 
hold of the thread, that would conduct us, if our Daedalian 
wings did not fail us, across that interminable abyss which sepa- 
rates the finite from the infinite ; and when we transfer our 
mathematical conceptions to the Deity, we can hardly fail to 
meditate upon his glories with deeper amazement. 

To many minds all explanations of the biblical doctrine of 
the Trinity, appear so absurd and contradictory as not to ad- 
mit of belief. Let, it however, be stated to such a man, for the 
first time, that two lines may approach each other forever with- 
out meeting, and it will appear to him as absurd as the doc- 
trine of the Trinity. But after you have demonstrated to him 
the properties of the hyperbola and its asymptote, the apparent 
absurdity vanishes. And so after the theologian has stated, 
that by Divine Unity he means only a numerical unity, — in 
other words, that there is but one Supreme Being, and that the 
Three Persons of the Godhead are one in this sense, and three 
only in those respects not inconsistent with this unity, every 
philosophical mind, whether it admit or not that the Scriptures 
teach the doctrine of the Trinity, must see that there is no ab- 
surdity or contradiction in this view of it. Hence it may hap- 
pen, and indeed it has happened, that the solution of a man's 
difficulties on this subject may originate in a proposition of Conic 
Sections. 

Other peculiar truths of revelation receive striking support 
from the application of mathematical principles. Among these 
is the doctrine of special or miraculous Providence. Professor 
Babbage, in that singular yet ingenious work, called the Ninth 
Bridgwater Treatise, has shown mathematically, that mira- 
cles may have formed a part of the original and foreordained 
plan of the universe, and that their occurrence may be as really 
the result of natural laws as ordinary events, a doctrine, which, 
indeed, had been previously advanced by Butler. And in this 
way is the famous objection of David Hume to miracles proved 
by mathematics to be groundless. 

Other religious applications of mathematics might be pointed 
out. But we must hasten forward to that wide space on the 
circle of human knowledge, occupied by the inductive sciences. 



21 

These comprehend, in fact, all those branches that relate to the 
material universe, and when we have glanced at them, we shall 
have completed the circuit of literature and science. 

And here at the outset, we remark, that from these sciences 
have been gathered that great mass of facts which constitute 
the essence of Natural Theology, by such men as Newintyt, 
Ray, Derham, Wollaston, Paley, Brown, and the authors of the 
Bridgewater Treatises. The a 'posteriori argument for the 
Divine existence rests upon them ; and, indeed, almost all the 
truths pertaining to the character of the Deity and his govern- 
ment that nature discloses. They are arguments which all men 
can readily understand and appreciate : for although a few 
metaphysical minds have endeavored to throw doubt over the 
vahdity of the argument from design, as I have already stated ; 
yet this is in fact the only evidence that does interest and satis- 
fy the great mass of men. When they see such wonderful ef- 
fects as physical science discloses, they are led irresistibly, by a 
universal law of the human mind, to refer them to some ade- 
quate cause ; and no cause can be adequate, save an Infinite 
Deity. Natural Theology has selected only the most striking 
of these effects. But in truth every fact of inductive science 
furnishes an argument for theism. So that to a man in a mor- 
ally healthy state, every scientific truth becomes a religious 
truth, and nature is converted into one great temple, where 
sacred fire is always burning upon the altars, where hovers the 
glorious Shekinah, and where, from a full orchestra, the an- 
tiiem of praise is ever ascending. 

In accordance with this view, we find that the most gifted 
minds, and indeed a large majority of all minds, that have de- 
voted themselves to inductive science, have been the friends of 
religion. And here we reckon the princes of the intellectual 
world, such as Newton, Kepler, Galileo, Pascal, Boyle, Coper- 
nicus, Linnaeus, Black, Boerhaave and Dalton : and among the 
living, such men as Herschel, Brewster, Whewell, Sedgwick, 
Owen, and a multitude of others. The very same argumenta- 
tion that leads such original discoverers to derive the principles 
of science from facts in nature, carries them irresistibly back- 
ward to a First Cause : and, indeed, the inductive principle, as 



22 

developed by Bacon, forms the true basis on wliich to build the 
whole fabric of natural religion ; and he who fully admits the 
truth of natural religion, is in a state of preparation for receiv- 
ing revealed truth, to supply its deficiences. So that upon the 
whole, the inductive sciences are of all others most favorable to 
religion, and the most intimately connected with it. 

I shall doubtless be met here by the objection, that not a few 
distinguished men, found in the ranks of inductive science, 
have been thorough sceptics. And here the names of some of 
the most able mathematicians of modern times, such as La 
Place, and D'Alembert, will be adduced. We shall be referred to 
the Nebular Hypothesis of the former, and to the Encyclopedia 
of the latter; both of them intended to lay the axe at the root of 
all rehgion, and to cover nature with the pall of atheism. But 
such anomalies as these are explicable in consistency with the 
general position that inductive science is eminently favorable to 
religion. For in the first place, these men were atheists in spite 
of science, rather than through its influence. The spirit of the 
limes, and of the country in which they lived, was dissolute 
and atheistic ; and the moral feelings of D'Alembert at least, 
were so corrupt that nothing but atheism could keep conscience 
quiet. In the second place, they were distinguished in abstruse 
mathematics, rather than iii inductive science : and it cannot be 
denied, that when men devote themselves almost exclusively to 
abstractions of this nature, they are apt to look with suspicion up- 
on the less certain, but far higher and more important evidence of 
moral reasoning : or rather, they attempt to apply the subtleties 
of the higher mathematics to religion, and of course fail of ar- 
riving at correct results : because the subjects are totally diverse, 
and must be understood by entirely different modes of analsyis. 
Bonaparte, who was quick to discover character, made La Place 
one of his ministers : but soon saw that he did not discharge 
his duties with much ability; because as the emperor said, " he 
sought subtleties in every subject, and carried into his official 
employments the spirit of the method of infinitely small quanti- 
ties," employed by mathematicians. But the grand difficulty 
with such men is, that by confining their attention so exclusively 
to one department of knowledge, and to the cultivation of one 



23 

set of faculties, by a well known law of physiology they dwarf 
all the other powers, and really become less capable of judging 
of other subjects than ordinary men, who cultivate all their fac- 
ulties in due proportion. This is strikingly exhibited in the 
Nebular Hypothesis of La Place. He really thought that it ren- 
dered a Deity unnecessary in the formation of the universe. 
But the merest tyro in moral reasoning sees, that even ad- 
mitting the hypothesis, a designing, infinitely wise, and pow- 
erful Deity, is just as necessary as without it. It only throws 
farther back the period when this designing and creative 
interposition was exerted : and even the Christian philosopher 
feels no difficulty in adopting this hypothesis, through fear of 
its irreligious tendency. The fact is, that La Place, though a 
giant in mathematics, was only a liliput on other subjects. It 
ought not to be forgotten, also, that neither of the eminent infidel 
mathematicians, whom I have named, were original discoverers, 
like Newton, Copernicus, and Boyle. In making their discov- 
eries, these latter men were led to take broad views of science, 
and to examine the original as well as final causes of events : 
whereas such men as La Place and D'Alembert, only carried 
out and illustrated the principles discovered by others. In 
tracing out these illustrations, they did, indeed, discover amaz- 
ing acuteness: but their views were so much confined, that 
they were but poor judges of the relations of science to religion. 
They were excellent mathematicians, but poor philosophers. 
For in the noble language of Sir John Herschel, one of the 
brightest living ornaments of inductive science in Europe, " the 
character of the true philosopher is, to hope all things not im- 
possible, and to believe all things not unreasonable." But the 
character of these men would be better described by saying, 
that they doubted and denied every thing that could not be 
proved by mathematics. They ar^ examples of malformation 
and distortion in the philosophical world, instead of fair propor- 
tion and full developement. 

There is another circumstance which has deepened the im- 
pression that the inductive sciences are, to some extent, unfavor- 
able to rehgion. Scarcely any important discovery has been 
made in these branches, that has not been regarded for a time, 



24 

either by the timid and jealous friends of rehgion, or by its su- 
perficial enemies, to be opposed at least to revelation, if not to 
theism. When Copernicus demonstrated the diurnal and an- 
nual revolutions of the earth, the infidel saw clearly that the 
facts vi^ere in opposition to the Bible ; and the theologian was 
of the same opinion, and arrayed scripture authority, as well as 
compact syllogisms, against the new astronomy. But the 
Christian soon learnt that he had misunderstood the language 
of the Bible, because he had read it through the medium of a 
false astronomy. So too, when the Brahminical astronomy was 
first brought to light, and the epoch of the Tirvalore tables was 
thought to be nearly as early as the Mosaic date of*man's crea- 
tion, scepticism began to exult. But the tone changed when it 
was ascertained that this epoch was supposititious. More re- 
cently, French infidelity saw in the Zodiac of Denderah a refu- 
tation of the biblical chronology. But when it was ascertained 
that the position of the signs on that Zodiac, in respect to the 
colures, had reference to the commencement of the Egyptian 
civil year, and not to the precession of the equinoxes, this fan- 
cied discrepancy also vanished : and now, when both biblical 
interpretation and astronomy are better understood, every one 
confesses, not only that the science is in harmony with revela- 
tion, but that it aflfords some of the most splendid illustrations 
of religion to be found in the whole circle of learning. 

When at the beginning of the present century, the great dis- 
covery was announced, that the principal part of the solid ma- 
terials of the earth had been oxidized, or in popular language, 
had been burnt, both the baptised and the unbaptised infidel 
at once declared, that the final destruction of the earth, as des- 
cribed by Peter, was impossible : since it is no longer combus- 
tible : and since the apostle had thus erred, because not ac- 
quainted with modern chemistry, the idea of his inspiration 
must be given up. It was erelong found, however, that the 
apostle's language had been misunderstood, through the influ- 
ence of the false opinion, still widely entertained, that to burn 
a substance is to destroy or annihilate it. But when chemistr|i 
showed that combustion only changes the form of substances, 
and cannot annihilate a particle, the apostle's meaning was 



i 



25 

found perfectly to correspond to such an idea : and it is now 
obvious, that he meant to teach simply, that whatever upon or 
within the earth is combustible, will be burnt ; and the whole 
mass of the globe be melted. So that now the tables are com- 
pletely turned ; and we find, not only no contradiction between 
his language and chemistry, but a striking proof of its inspired 
origin, in the fact, that though written when chemistry was not 
known, it should be found in perfect harmony with the re- 
searches of that science. And the same remark may be ap- 
plied to the whole scriptures in their relation to all science. — 
The most eagle eyed sagacity of the nineteenth century has 
been unable to detect a single discrepancy between the two 
records. The same cannot be said of any false rehgion. The 
Shasters of Hindostan contain a false astronomy, as well as a 
false anatomy and physiology, and the Koran distinctly avows 
the Ptolemaic system of the heavenly bodies ; and so interwo- 
ven are these scientific errors with the religion of these sacred 
books, that when you have proved the former you have dis- 
proved the latter. But the Bible, stating only facts, and adopt- 
ing no system of human philosophy, has ever stood, and ever 
shall stand, in sublime simplicity and undecaying strength ; 
while the winds and the waves of conflicting human opinions, 
roar and dash harmlessly around, and the wrecks of a thou- 
sand false systems of philosophy and religion are strewed along 
its base. 

But the religious applications of chemistry do not consist 
simply in illustrating a passage of scripture. It abounds with 
the most beautiful exhibitions of the Divine wisdom and be- 
nevolence : and notwithstanding the ingenious developments by 
Prout, in his Bridgewater Treatise, and by Fownes in his Prize 
Essay, I must beUeve that this field is only just entered ; and 
ihat most precious gems will be found in almost every part of 
'its wide extent. What admirable skill and benevolence does 
fthe doctrine of definite proportions and atomic constitution in 
chemical compounds present ! Here we see nature incessantly 
performing processes, on which organic life and comfort de- 
pend, with a practical mathematics as perfect as the theory. — 
And then, how wonderful is the isomeric constitution, recently 
4 



26 

discovered, of those proximate principles that form the food of 
animals and plants. How beautiful too, the mode, — only re- 
cently ascertained, — by which this nourishment is brought with- 
in their reach, and introduced into their systems ! See too 
what wonderful benevolence as well as wisdom are displayed 
in the laws and operations of heat, by which its very excess in 
tropical regions, produces by evaporation the paradoxical result 
of cooling and rendering habitable that burning zone : and on 
the other hand, the congelation and condensation produced by its 
absence in frigid regions, renders the atmosphere warmer and the 
climate habitable. Think, also, how in the case of water, by an 
apparent exception to a law of nature, just as it enters into a 
state of congelation, the great bodies of that liquid in our riv- 
ers and lakes are prevented from freezing up in the winter, so 
that the longest summer would not thaw them out. And final- 
ly, what substance in nature is so wonderfully adapted to its 
manifold and seemingly opposite uses, as water ! 

Simpi'e though it seem. 
Emblem of imbecility itself, 
As most regard it, yet in fact, the fooif 
Of all organic life ; the fruitful scarce 
Of power in human arts ; and in the clouds, 
The storm, the mountain stream, the placid lake, 
The ocean's roaring and the glacier's sheen. 
The landscape's frostwork, or its icy gems, 
Hence springs the beautiful and the sublime. 
A power, indeed, pervading nature through ; 
Now moving noiseless through organic lubes, 
To keep stagnation from the vital frame ; 
And now the Atlantic dashing to the skies, 
Or rushing down Niagara's rocky steep, 
Earth trembling, staggering, underneath the shock ; 
Effects so diverse, opposite, to gain 
By one mild element, a problem this, 
No wisdom, short of infinite, could solve. 

No sciences have furnished so many and so appropriate facts, 

illustrative of natural theology, as anatomy and physiology. 

They have been the great magazine, whence writers on that 
subject have drawn their most effective weapons in their war 
with atheism : but being so fully described in so many treatises, 
I need not enter into particulars. Comparative anatomy and 
physiology, however, of more recent date, have not yet been so 
extensively employed for religious illustration as they will be : 



27 

although Bell's Bridgewater Treatise upon the hand, affords us 
a foretaste of what may be done. The developments of these 
sciences are truly marvellous. Who would hqve believed, for 
instance, fifty years ago, that such is the mathematical correla- 
tion, not only of different parts of an animal, but of parts of 
different animals, that from a single fragment of the bone of an 
unknown creature, the skillful anatomist can construct his whole 
skeleton, and then clothe it with muscles, blood vessels, and 
nerves, and point out its food, its habits, audits haunts. Yet this 
has been done in many instances ; and the subsequent discov- 
ery of the whole skeleton has confirmed the accuracy of the 
principle employed, and the results obtained. What a striking 
proof of the existence and agency of a Being infinitely wise 
and powerful, to contrive and create the universe ! For in 
fact, we find that the correlation of animal structures, so beau- 
tifully developed by Cuvier, Owen, and others, is but a specific 
example of the great law of harmony, that links together by a 
golden chain, the great and the small, the past, the present, 
and the future, throughout the universe. 

The science of physiology, however, lias often been looked 
upon with jealousy by the friends of religion, as leading its vo- 
taries to materialism. It would not be strange, indeed, if men, 
who see such astonishing effects result from exquisite material 
organization, and who give but little attention to the functions 
and laws of intellect, should come to think it possible that 
even thought may be only a result of that organization. But 
the difficulty Ties, not in the science, but in these partial views : 
in that common failing of literary men, to attempt to group ev- 
ery thing under a favorite science and explain every thing by it. 
And further, when I find even professedly Christian men de- 
fending materialism, and some of its ablest advocates ad- 
mitting that the soul may be something "immortal, sub- 
tle, immaterial, diffused through the brain,"* (I use their 
very words,) I cannot believe that the views of such men 
as to the nature of the soul, differ much in reality from those 
of the strict immaterialist ; although they use different terms. 
Nor will the practical influence of their opinions, false as they 
undoubtedly are, when understood in their strict sense, be like- 

* Elliotson's Physiology, p. 39. 



33 

ly to be very disastrous : although there is a grosser form of 
materialism, that is made the basis of a hateful system of athe- 
ism. 

There are two recent offsets from Physiology, which have 
been supposed fraught with influences unfavorable to religion. I 
refer to Phrenology and Mesmerism. The first has been thought 
to favor materialism, and to lessen human responsibility ; and the 
latter, to bring miracles into disrepute ; and to direct us for the 
cure of the body and the soul, to a class of dreaming pretend- 
ers, whose responses are about as much to be relied on as those 
of the oracle of Delphos, the god of Ekron, or the witch of 
Endor ; and whom it is about as impious to consult. The mer- 
its of these new branches of science, this is not the proper oc- 
casion to discuss ; nor is it easy as yet to ascertain definitely 
what principles in them are settled. But admitting their pre- 
tensions, the first seems to leave the question of materialism just 
where it found it ; since it is as easy to see how an immaterial 
soul should act through a hundred organs as through one. Nor 
does it seem to me more difficult, on natural principles, to see 
how the mind may act at a distance, through the undulations 
of a mesmeric msdium, than to see how light and heat are 
transmitted by the waves of a luminiferous ether. On the other 
hand, if physiology and phrenology tend to materialism, certain- 
ly mesmerism tends even more decidedly to immaterialism ; as 
the conversion of several distinguished materialists will testify. 
It does, also, open to the Christian, (admitting its statements to 
be true,) most interesting glimpses of the mode in which the 
mind may act when freed from flesh and blood, and clothed 
with a spiritual body. Indeed, I doubt not, that in regard both 
to Phrenology and Mesmerism, the general principle will prove 
true, that the more ominous of evil any branch of knowledge 
seems to be, in its incipient state, the more prolific it will ulti- 
mately become, in illustrations favorable both to morality and 
religion. 

The wide dominions of natural history, embracing zoology, 
botany, and mineralogy, the theologist has ever found crowded 
with demonstrations of the Divine Existence and of God's Prov- 
idential care and government ; and every new province that has 



29 

been explored by the naturalist, only serves to enlarge our con- 
ceptions of the Creator's works, and to impress us more deeply 
with their unity and perfection. These new conquests in un- 
known regions havQ been astonishingly numerous within the 
last half century: but in the direction pointed out by the mic- 
roscope, they have been most marvellous: The existence of 
animals too minute to be seen by the naked eye, has, indeed, 
long been known : but it was not till the researches of Ehren- 
berg, that any just conceptions of their infinite number and 
indefinite minuteness were entertained. We now know, that 
nine milhons of some of these animalcula, may live in a space 
not larger than a mustard seed ; and that their numbers are 
many million times greater than that of all other animals on the 
globe. Indeed, the microscope has laid open a field into the 
infinitessimal forms of organic and inorganic nature, quite as 
boundlesss, both in number and extent, as the telescope 
discloses in infinite space. Nor can we find any limits in the 
one direction more than the other : and thus does the micros- 
cope in the same manner as the telescope, prodigiously enlarge 
our conceptions of the perfections of the Infinite Author of the 
Universe. 

These researches have cast not a little light upon a certain 
hypothesis, that has been, in one form or another, often thrown 
before the world, since the days of Democritus and Epicurus, 
usually for the purpose of sustaining a system of atheism. It 
supposes an inherent power in nature, capable of producing 
plants and animals without parentage, by an imagined vital 
force, essential to some forms of matter. The ancient philoso- 
phers imputed these effects to a " fortuitous concourse of at- 
oms." In modern times this general statement has been made 
more definite by Lamarck, Geoffroy, St. Hilaire, Bory St. Vin- 
cent, and others, who suppose that Nature, — in their vocabula- 
ry sometimes dignified by the title of Deity, but still unintelli- 
gent and merely instrumental, — gives origin only to " monads," 
or " rough draughts" of organic beings ; and that these, by 
" an inherent tendency to improvement," and " the force of ex- 
ternal circumstances," become animals of higher and higher or- 
ganization ; until at last the orang-outang abandoned his quad- 



30 

rupedal condition, and stood erect as man, with all his lofty 
powers of intellect. Before the invention of the microscope, a 
multitude of insects and worms were thought to have this 
equivocal origin, and to pass through these transmutations ; an 
example of which, every Latin scholar will recollect, in the di- 
rections of Virgil for the production of a swarm of bees out of 
the carcass of an animal. But as optical instruments have been 
improved, and observations have become more acute, the origin 
of nearly every animal visible to the naked eye, has been found 
to be by ordinary generation. The advocates of the spontane- 
ous production of organic beings, however, still clung to the 
animalcula and the entozoa. But it is now clearly demonstra- 
ted, that all the former class have been derived from parents ; 
and that more abundant means are provided for their repro- 
duction than for any of the higher tribes of animals. The same 
is true of the entozoa : a single individual of which, is capable 
of producing more than sixty millions of progeny ; and it would 
be very strange for nature to take such extraordinary pains for 
their propagation, if it might have been accomplished spontane- 
ously. Not a single certain example, indeed, of the spontane- 
ous production of living beings can be adduced : and if there 
are a few cases where parentage has not been yet discovered, 
the past history of the subject makes it almost certain, that it 
needs only more perfect instruments, or more extended obser- 
vations, to prove that the same great law of reproduction em- 
braces all animated nature. And as to the transmutation of 
species, geology has shown that it has never taken place ; while 
physiology demonstrates that species are permanent and can 
never be transmuted. The individual does, indeed, pass through 
different stages of development ; some of which resemble the 
perfect forms of species inferior to it in the organic scale. But 
the limits of these developments are fixed for each species ; 
nor is there a single known instance, in which an individual has 
been able to stop at any particular stage, and thus become 
another species. 

In view of these facts, it is not strange that most of the men 
best qualified to judge on such a subject, as for instance, Owen, 
the ablest of comparative anatomists ; Ehrenberg, the first of mic- 



31 

roscopists ; and Muller, most eminent in physiology, should 
reject these hypotheses of spontaneous generation and transmu- 
tation. Nevertheless, the unusual interest which has been man- 
ifested by the recent work of an English nobleman, entitled. Ves- 
tiges of the Natural History of the Creation, wherein these hypoth- 
esis, as well as the nebular hypotheses, are ingeniously defend- 
ed, and that too without denying the original intervention of 
a Divine Power in nature, show us that a long drawn contest is 
yet before naturalists on these subjects, ere these fancies shall be 
forced into that extramundane receptacle of things abortive and 
unaccomplished, described by Milton as " a limbo large and 
wide," on the back side of the moon. And yet, my conviction 
is, that this contest will not have so important a bearing on the 
cause of religion, as some theologists imagine. For even though 
these hypotheses should be established, an intelligent, spiritual, 
infinite Deity, is quite as necessary to account for existing na- 
ture, as on the more common theory, which supposes the uni- 
verse commanded from nothing at once in a perfect state. In- 
deed, to endow the particles of matter with the power to form 
exquisite organic compounds, just at the moment when circum- 
stances are best adapted to their existence, and then to become 
animated, nay, endowed with instincts, and with lofty intellects ; 
all which results the advocates of these hypotheses must impute 
to the laws impressed upon originally brute matter, — such ef- 
fects, I say, demand infinite wisdom, power and benevolence, 
even more imperatively than the common theories of creation. 
I doubt not that in general these hypotheses have been adopted 
to sustain atheistic opinions, or to remove the Deity away from 
his works. But unbiassed philosophy sees that they utterly fail 
to accomplish either of these objects. And I confess, that I re- 
ject them, more because they have no solid evidence in their fa- 
vor, than because I fear that they will ultimately be of much in- 
jury to religion ; especially so long as such works as Whewell's 
"Indications of the Creator," are within the reach of the 
scholar. 

The religious bearings of geology alone remain to be noticed. 
And no science, except perhaps astronomy, has excited so much 
alarm as this, for its supposed irreligious tendencies. But so 
g<?on as theologians discovered, that while the Mosaic chronolo- 



32 

gy fixes the date of man's creation, it leaves the antiquity of 
the globe unsettled, and, therefore, a fit subject for philosophic- 
al examination, they began to see that this science might be 
made to shed much light upon religion. Indeed, it already ex- 
cels every other science in the importance of its religious ap- 
plications ; and notwithstanding the noble beginnings by Dr. 
Buckland, Dr. J. Pye Smith, Dr. Chalmers and others, the work 
of developement is but just begun. Would that my time and 
your patience might permit us to take a leisurely survey of 
this interesting field. But a glance must suffice. 

To say nothing of the illustrations of the meaning of reveal- 
ed truth derived from this science, — of collision between them 
there is certainly none, — it furnishes us, in the first place, with 
a new argument for the existence of a Deity. This argu- 
ment rests upon three leading facts of the science, independent 
of one another ; so that we may doubt or deny one or two of 
them, and yet not reject the argument. The first is, that there 
was a period, when no animals or plants existed on the globe, 
and, therefore, an epoch when they were created ; which must 
have required a Being oflnfinite Perfections. The second is, that 
there have been on the globe several nearly entire extinctions and 
renewals of organic life, each of which demands the agency of 
such a Being. The third is, that man was only recently crea- 
ted, — almost the last of the animals : — and since he is at the 
head of creation, nothing in nature has demanded a higher ex- 
ercise of wisdom and power than his production : and, there- 
fore, it must have required a Deity. 

It is obvious that these same facts prove clearly the non- 
eternity of the present condition of the globe ; and even though 
we admit the ancient doctrine of matter's eternity, yet its most 
important modifications, requiring a Deity no less than its crea- 
tion, must have been produced in time, and this conclusion is all 
that is essential to theism. And thus geology, which has been 
supposed to favor tlie idea of the world's eternity, is the only 
science, as Dr. Chalmers has splendidly shown, that can prove 
its non-eternity. 

These same facts, and others that might be named, demon- 
strate the occasional interference of the Deity with the settled 
order of nature: — in other words, they show us splendid mira- 



33 

cles of creation. And thus is all presumption against the mira- 
cles of revelation done away : — and also all objections against 
special Providence and special answers to prayer. 

This science too, opens to us views into the arcana of past 
duration, as deep and illimitable as astronomy does into the ar- 
cana of space ; and there is made to pass before us a splendid 
panorama of the vast and varied plans of Jehovah ; while 
chemical change is disclosed to us as the great conservative and 
controlling principle of the universe, superior even to the laws 
of gravitation. The unity of the Divine plans, is, also, exhibit- 
ed to us by the records of this science, on a far wider scale 
than the existing economy of nature can show. And finally, it 
brings before us a great number of new and peculiar proofs of 
Divine Benevolence, that throw new glory over this attribute of 
the Deity ; derived, as they are, from facts heretofore supposed 
to prove Divine malevolence, or at least vindictive justice. 

We have now taken a glance at the entire and vast circle of 
human learning. And is not every mind forced irresistibly to 
the conclusion, that every branch was originally linked by a 
golden chain to the throne of God : and that the noblest use to 
which they can be consecrated, and for which they were des- 
tined, is to illustrate his perfections and to display his glory. — 
If so, let me conclude my too protracted remarks, by a few in- 
ferences. 

In the first place, what a monstrous perversion and misap- 
prehension of learning it is, to consider it as hostile to religion. 

It is not difficult to explain how a Christian, who is very ig- 
norant, and who learns that literary men are often sceptical, 
should distrust the influence of learning upon religion : nor 
how a mere smatterer in science, himself sceptical, should flat- 
ter himself that his great learning made him so. But how 
strange that any talented and well informed man, be he Chris- 
tian or infidel, should not see that all science and a large part 
of literature are 

But elder Scripture writ by God's own hand ! 

It must be the strongest prejudice, or the most decided ha- 
5 



34 

tied to religion, which can suppose that one work of the same 
infinitely perfect God should oppose another : for in fact, learn- 
ing and religion are only different shoots from the same parent 
stock : and if their fruit be of opposite qualities, it must be be- 
cause man has grafted upon one or the other, the apples of 
Sodom. To set learning against religion, is as unnatural, as to 
array brother against brother on the field of combat. 

We see, secondly, that those engaged in directly promo- 
ting religion, and those devoted to learning, ought to look up- 
on each other as laboring in a common cause. 

If their labors are such as they should be, they will help each 
other ; and, therefore, they ought to rejoice in each others suc- 
cess. For though a new branch of learning but half under- 
stood, may sometimes put on an aspect threatening to religion, 
we need never fear but the final result will be a new support 
to religion ; and, therefore, the religious man should dismiss all 
fears and jealousies in respect to sound learning ; while on the 
other hand, every increase of true religion has an auspicious 
bearing upon the cause of learning. 

We see, thirdly, that the preacher of the Gospel may con- 
sistently devote himself to the work of instructing the young 
in literature and science. For in the first place, he need not, 
by such a change, necessarily abandon the direct preaching of 
the gospel occasionally. In the second place, by faithful in- 
struction in learning, he may greatly promote the cause of re- 
ligion, and train up many, perhaps, to exert a still wider influ- 
ence in its favor. Finally, how much better that such a man 
should use science and hterature legitimately for the support of 
religion, than that they should be perverted by a sceptical teach- 
er to undermine it. In spite of these reasons, however, we are 
frequently told, that for a minister of the Gospel to become a 
teacher of human learning, is to abandon his high calling, and 
forfeit his solemn vows ; as indeed he may do, by engaging in 
such pursuits from merely secular motives. 

In the fourth place, we see that the more eminent a man 
is for learning, the more eminent he should be for personal pie- 
ty. Why, indeed, should not the latter increase in his heart, 
as the former does in his intellect ? For every new accession 



35 

of knowledge is but a development of some attribute or plan 
of the Deity. The entire field of human learning all rightful- 
ly belongs to religion, and should be regarded by the Christian 
scholar as consecrated ground. The farther he advances in it, 
the more does he see of the Deity ; and as he returns from 
communion with nature, in the very holy of holies of her tem- 
ple, he ought, like Moses from the holy mount, to show a radi- 
ant glory on his countenance. 

In the fifth place, what importance does the subject give 
to the pursuits of learning, and the Institutions of learning ! 

If knowledge is power in secular matters, it is no less so in 
religion. I know that a higher power is essential to the success 
of the latter. But I know too, that religion without learning 
almost infallibly degenerates into fanaticism or dead formalism ; 
and, indeed, at this day, true rehgion will not flourish except in 
connection with learning; and, therefore, almost every denomi- 
nation is now striving to found and sustain literary seminaries. 
Nor is their importarK^e yet duly estimated, because but few 
realize how indispensable is their agency in promoting the no- 
blest of all objects, the salvation of men ; and, therefore, in our 
land at least, with a few exceptions, their foundations are too 
narrow and the superstructure too fraii. 

In the sixth place, how justly are those honored, and how 
wide an influence do they exert, who found and endow literary 
institutions from religious motives. 

They may be charged with unhallowed ambition, by men 
who think only of the secular influence of these institutions. 
But he who considers what is the highest use of learning, and 
how immense will be the influence of a well endowed Seminary 
upon the cause of religion, cannot but look upon such bequests 
as the noblest of charities ; especially when he remembers how 
much more enduring is that influence than when money is given 
to most other benevolent objects. What names stand higher 
on the Christian's roll of fame, than those of Harvard, and Yale, 
and Dartmouth, and Williams, and Brown ? And through how 
many coming centuries of our country's history, will their ex- 
ample stimulate others to go and do likewise. By liberal be- 
quests to literary institutions while yet feeble and struggling for 



36 

existence, their names have become inseparably fixed upon 
them, where they will remain long after the pyramids of Egypt 
shall be crumbled into dust. In what other way could they 
have exerted so desirable, extensive, and enduring an influence 
upon the world ! 

In the seventh place, what a noble yet immense work lies 
before Christian scholars : viz. to make all learning subservient 
to its highest purpose ! 

Sadly have many branches been perverted, and strong is still 
the disposition to divert all learning from its noblest use. To 
arrest this downward tendency, and to bring back all literature 
and all science to the service of religion, is an object of the 
highest ambition, adapted to call forth the strongest efforts of 
every Christian scholar. And let all such take courage. For 
religion is the natural home of all branches of learning : and 
though some of the sisterhood have been seduced into the ser- 
vice of sin and the world, and have forgotten their paternity, 
yet when reminded of their sacred origin, gladly will they re- 
turn to the paternal hearth, and pile richer gifts upon the altar, 
where they presented their earliest offerings. 

In the eighth place, we learn how important it is, that 
every literary institution should make the promotion of religion 
the leading object of its system of instruction. 

Other objects of subordinate importance it may and ought to 
endeavor to accomplish : but to make these the chief things 
aimed at, while religion is thrust into the back ground, is as if a 
man should build an elegant mansion for the sake of improving 
the landscape, and with no intention of living in it : or as if a 
community should erect a church for the sake of holding town 
meetings and political caucases in it, and hearing lyceum lec- 
tures, vi^ith no intention of using it as a place of worship, except 
perhaps occasionally. 

There is, indeed, a great cry about excluding sectarianism 
from our literary institutions, and throwing them open to per- 
sons of all religious opinions. Now in this country, where we 
have no established church, it is difficult to define a sectarian, 
unless it be a man who differs from us in religious sentiments. 
So that in fact, with the exception of a few, who have no opin- 



37 

ions or care on this subject, we are all sectarians ; and to ex- 
clude sectarianism from a literary institution, is to exclude all 
religion from it. And such is usually the result, when it at- 
tempts so to trim its course as to suit all parties. But really, 
of all kinds of intolerance, that is the worst, which is furious for 
toleration: and that the worst kind of sectarianism, which is 
fierce for irreligion. The only truly liberal and manly course 
for an institution to adopt, is, openly to avow its creed, and not 
to disguise its desire to have all the youth adopt it who resort 
thither ; while at the same time it uses no other means but ar- 
gument and example to convert them, nor permits their religious 
opinions, whatever they may be, to have any influence in award- 
ing hterary honors. In this respect the motto of the ancient 
Tyrian queen should be adopted by every teacher: 

Tros Tyriusve nuUo discrimine mihi agetur. 

Such a course does, indeed, make the institution sectarian ; 
that is, it shows a preference for some particular system of relig- 
ion. But it is an honest course, and the only honest one that 
can be taken. For if an institution professes to regard all re- 
ligious opinions with equal favor, who can avoid the suspicion, 
that it is either a stratagem for introducing some unpopular 
system, or that it indicates an almost universal scepticism on 
the subject. Indeed, how can a man, who has any just sense 
of religious obligation, consent to be placed in circumstances, 
where he cannot recommend openly those religious views which 
he deems essential to salvation ? 

In the ninth place, we see that a Professorship of Natural 
Theology, is an appropriate one in a College. 

The main business of such a professor, is to go over the 
same ground as we have now glanced at, and to trace out the 
bearing of all literature and all science upon religion. And 
if this be, indeed, the most important use of learning, why 
should it be left unprovided for ; or depend upon the voluntary 
efforts of the different instructors, whose hands are already 
quite full ? I make these remarks, because such a professorship 
is unusual in our Colleges ; and I have feared that the one with 
which I have been recently honored, may seem to have been 



38 

got up for the occasion, to eke out a deficiency of titles. But 
it is not so : and it is proper to say, that I have in fact, for the 
last ten years, attempted to perform the duties of such a pro- 
fessorship. 

Finally, to the principle which I have endeavored to prove, 
we owe the establishment of many modern literary and scientific 
institutions ; and eminently of that within whose walls we are 
assembled. 

By recurring to the history of the origin of some of the most 
distinguished scientific societies and literary institutions of Eu- 
rope, it will appear that one of the leading objects which their 
illustrious founders had in view, was to extend a knowledge of 
the Christian religion, along with the arts and sciences, to re- 
mote and barbarous nations, particularly those of the southeast- 
ern Asia. Among the institutions thus originating, was the 
Royal Society of London, the French Academy, the Berlin 
Academy, the Academia Naturae Curiosorum, the University 
of Halle, and the Institutions of Franke at Halle ; and among 
the distinguished men who have labored in this work, we find 
the names of Boyle, Montucla, Leibnitz, Wolf, and Humboldt.* 
I fear, indeed, that this object has been often lost sight of by 
these institutions : but their origin furnishes us at least with the 
testimony of most able and competent witnesses, to the truth of 
the position which I have now vindicated and illustrated, as to 
the highest use of learning. 

But to come nearer home : we shall see that this Institution 
originated in a deep conviction of this same truth in the minds 
of those noble hearted men, who in faith and prayer, laid the 
foundations on which we are called upon to build. The very 
first paragraph of the Constitution, of what they then called a 
Charity Institution, contains it ; and in the first article it is said : 
— " In contemplating the felicitous state of society, which is 
predicted in the Scriptures of truth, and the rapid approach of 
such a state, which the auspices of the present day clearly indi- 
cate : and desiring to add our feeble efforts to the various exer- 
tions of the Christian community for effecting so glorious an 

* Oiatio in Academia Fridericiana Halensi &;c. habita ab. D. J. S. 0. Schwelgger, p. 4, 
Halle ]8M. 



39 

event, — we have associated together for the express purpose of 
founding an Institution on the genuine principles of charity and 
benevolence, for the instruction of youth in all the branches of 
literature and science usually taught in Colleges." Here we 
see no other reason assigned for founding the Institution but a 
wish to promote the cause of religion ; as if no other benefits to 
result from it were worth naming. Let this fact never be for- 
gotten by those who manage and instruct in this College. God 
forbid that the time should ever come, when any instructor here 
shall be ashamed, or backward, to acknowledge that the ad- 
vancement of pure religion, — even the Christian religion,— is the 
grand object for which he labors and makes sacrifices. 

Being called to-day to occupy a new position in respect to this 
College, it is natural to attempt to define that position somewhat ; 
and to inquire what there may be in the condition of the Insti- 
tution to discourage, and what to encourage, for the future. 

It is well known, that an impression prevails abroad exten- 
sively, that the College is in a state of severe depression, and 
struggling for existence. And to some extent this impression is 
correct. But to omit minor causes, the grand source of our 
embarrassments is not well understood. It is a deficiency of 
pecuniary means. There is no complaint that we send forth 
men of corrupt principles, to contaminate the community ; nor 
that they are deficient in scholarship, in comparison with grad- 
uates from other Colleges. If this were the case, we should 
hear of it from our theological, medical, and legal seminaries. 
But for want of means, we cannot add to our libraries and appa- 
ratus those literary and scientific luxuries, that render such an 
Institution attractive to youth ; nor can we give to our buildings 
and our grounds that beauty and picturesque elegance, which 
throw a charm around them in the eyes of the student. The 
result is we cannot offer those external attractions, which other 
excellent institutions of ample pecuniary means present, and our 
numbers have diminished ; though other causes, which I have 
not time to mention, growing in part out of the altered con- 
dition of the country, have tended to the same result. 

Now why is it that we are thus stinted in our pecuniary 
means ? Not because an enlightend Christian public have not 



40 

been generous in their benefactions ; but for two other reasons. 
In the first place, the unusual prosperity of the College in its 
earlier days, compelled the Trustees to provide more ample 
means than were subsequently needed ; and thus they incurred 
debt. But the grand reason is, that the College has never re- 
ceived any pecuniary aid from the State Government. Nay, 
it has been obliged to expend its hundreds to obtain even that 
modicum of justice, a charter. Now to establish itself without 
such aid, has been the lot of no other College in the State ; and 
I believe of none in New England, unless it be Brown Univer- 
sity. Nor can such as have been thus endowed, — and liberal 
has been the governmental patronage towards those in Massa- 
chusetts, — imagine how hard and how long the struggle is, to 
carry up a College to the elevation needed in the nineteenth 
century, and in New England, by individual patronage alone. 

But Amherst College has had an opportunity nobly to revenge 
herself for this act of injustice and neglect of her unnatural step- 
mother ; and the Commonwealth may be assured that we are 
filling other vials of vengeance, which we mean annually to 
pour out upon her head. More than one hundred of the regu- 
larly educated ministers of the Gospel in Massachusetts, are the 
graduates of this College ; and quite as large a number probably 
in the other learned professions ; for all our graduates amount 
to more than seven hundred. Thus has the College followed 
the directions of the Persian poet ; or rather, of one far greater 
than Hafiz : 

" Learn from yon orient shell to love thy foe ; 
And strew with pearls the hand that brings thee woe, 
Free, like yon rock, from base vindictive pride, 
Emblaze with gems, the wrist that rends thy side. 
Mark where yon tree rewards the stony shower, 
With fruit nectareons and the balmy flower. 
All nature cries aloud, ' shall man do less 
Than heal the smiler, and the railer bless ?' " 

But I would not be severe. For one thing at least we sincere- 
ly thank the Government. Without an exception, the gentlemen 
whom they have designated as Trustees, have entered cordially 
and efficiently into the work of building up this Institution, and 
of relieving it of its embarrassments ; and we could not have done 
without them. In sending us such men, the Government have 



41 

exhibited the true spirit of those who sit in the seat of the pil- 
grims. And in refusing that pecuniary aid, which they have 
bestowed upon other Institutions, I am wiUirig to beheve that 
prejudice has for a time stifled the truly liberal spirit of Massa- 
chusetts, and that we, or our successors, shall find that our rulers 
will never allow this refusal of aid to individual effort in pro- 
moting the cause of learning, to become a part of our permanent 
history. 

I might have alluded to another cause of our pecuniary em- 
barrassments. The truly devoted men, who commenced the In- 
stitution, in their single hearted zeal to aid those indigent pious 
young men, who were aiming at the Christian ministry, directed 
all their efforts to obtain a fund for that purpose : and they suc- 
ceeded nobly : for that fund now amounts to ^50,000. But it 
can be used only for such students ; and, therefore, assists the 
College only by attracting such young men within its walls. In 
the mean time, they raised no funds for the general purposes 
of the Institution, save for buildings and apparatus ; and no 
such funds, worth naming, now exist, which are for the present 
available. They forgot themselves in their efforts to aid oth- 
ers ; or rather, to advance the cause of religion. 

Our poverty, then, lies at the foundation of most of our em- 
barrassments : and though this may be as trying, it is far less 
humiliating, than if the cause were criminal ; for unavoidable 
poverty is no crime, but often the parent of many virtues. Let 
us now turn the tables, and see whether there are any bright 
spots in the condition of the College. 

In the first place, I am so puritanical in my notions, as to re- 
gard the fact ominous of good, that the foundations of the Insti- 
tution were consecrated to the cause of pure religion, by men 
eminent for faith and prayer. Most of these men are now be- 
yond the reach of human praise, or censure ; and, therefore, 
I may thus speak of them. But some of us remember their 
prayers, and sacrifices, for this object ; and we believe that all 
such prayers will, in God's time, have an answer. These men 
and their efforts have, indeed, been ridiculed and traduced ; just 
as Spener and Franke were, in their noble and successful at- 
tempt to unite science and religion, by founding the University 
6 



42 

of Halle. But God ultimately crowned the labors of the Ger- 
man philanthropists with success and honor ; as I doubt not he 
will do to the philanthropists of New England. 

A second ground of confidence in the future prosperity of 
the College, rests upon the Charity Fund. The interest on 
this fund, with a smaller charity devoted to the same object, 
will pay the entire College bills of fifty students, who are look- 
ing forward to the Christian ministry. And can it be doubted, 
that among the pious youth in the humbler walks of life, at 
least that number will be ever ready to avail themselves of its 
benefits, to enable them to go out as faithful heralds of the 
cross ? The great numbers that have already been carried 
a^ong by this noble benefaction, are an earnest of the future. 

A third ground of hope for the College, lies in the fact, that 
besides the Charity Fund, buildings, libraries, apparatus, speci- 
mens, and a small real estate, several liberal benefactions and 
legacies have been secured, or promised, to found professor- 
ships, assist indigent pious young men, or for other purposes. — 
More than fifty thousand dollars have been already made sure 
for these objects by the decease of testators, or by actual pay- 
ment,* though but a small part of this amount can as yet be 
used for the benefit of the College. Some twenty thousand 
dollars more are pledged for similar objects by individuals still 
living, but not payable till their decease. The debt of the Col- 
lege at this time does not exceed twelve thousand dollars : while 
the subscriptions which are now due, or will be in a few years, 
and not reckoned in the above sums, are fully sufficient to pay 
this debt, These facts show us, that although at present the 
College has almost no funds which it can employ for its current 
expenses, yet it is certain at a future time, of an amount, 
which, if not large, will much increase its means of usefulness ; 
and equally certain that its debt will soon be cancelled. If, 
therefore, we can struggle along for a few years with our pres- 

* The endowment of the Williston Professorship of Rhetoric and Oratory, by Hon. Sam- 
uel Williston, on the day in which this address was delivered, enables me to give a more fa- 
vorable account of the pecuniary state of the College than I did on that occasion This no- 
ble benefaction,— ^the largest we have ever received from an individual, — in addition to Mr. 
Williston'a well known liberality toother objects, entitles him to the warmest thanks of the 
Institution. Yet as this endowment is not payable till three years hence, the statement made 
in the text respecting the present straitened circunietancos of the College, remains true. 



43 

ent very limited pecuniary means, we may be sure that the pe- 
riod of enlargement is not very distant. For these cheering 
prospects we are largely indebted to the indefatigable efforts of 
the present general agent ; and if, as he soon resigns his com- 
mission, and resumes the Christian ministry, he shall be able, 
as he hopes, to see the College debt nearly or quite liquidated, 
the result will be to him an ample reward for his labors and sac- 
rifices, and of high gratification to all the friends of the Insti- 
tution. 

A fourth ground of hope, lies in the system recently adopted 
by the Trustees and Faculty, of bringing the expenses of the 
College within its income, without at all diminishing the amount 
of instruction, or lowering the standard of scholarship. 

This is accomplished by the voluntary offer of the Faculty, 
to conduct for the present, the instruction and other ordinary 
concerns of the College, for its annual income, whatever that 
may be. This will of course prevent the College running in 
debt ; and thus render application to the friends of learning 
unnecessary, so far as its expenses are concerned : and we have 
seen how its present debt may be liquidated. How much sac- 
rifice this course may require on the part of the instructors, 
they know not. Their most anxious enquiries have been, 
whether duty demanded the effort, and whether it would secure 
the chief objects aimed at ; viz : to save the College from an 
increase of debt, and prevent applications to the public for pe- 
cuniary aid. They are willing to make the experiment, trust- 
ing in God to crown it with success. 

The means of instruction provided at this Institution, fur- 
nish another ground of promise for its success. 

Its buildings are provided with ample and convenient public 
and private rooms. Its philosophical apparatus is of a superior 
kind, and admirably fitted for a full course of demonstrative 
lectures. Its laboratory is also provided with every thing re- 
quisite for all the important experiments of chemistry : and its 
cabinet of Natural History, contains more than 14,000 speci- 
imens. Among them, is one of the largest and most complete 
examples of that admirable invention of Dr. Auzoux, called 
the Manakin. By this perfect man-model, all that knowledge 



44 

of the anatomy and physiology of the human system, needed 
for illustrating Natural Theology, and, indeed, for all educated 
men except the physician, can be obtained with astonishing fa- 
cihty, without the need of disgusting dissections. The volumes 
in the different libraries amount to fifteen thousand. And al- 
though here great additions are desirable, yet such additions 
are important for the instructors, rather than the students ; since 
the number now possessed, and the selections, are such, as to 
afford the latter abundant means for every investigation which 
they have time or occasion to make. But for the more ample 
researches which the duty of the instructors requires them to 
undertake, they must often resort to the large libraries abroad. 
Exclusive of my own department, it may not be improper for 
me to speak of the manner in which the different professorships 
are filled ; since it is the result of long personal observation, 
and I would hope that my judgment is not essentially warped 
by private friendship. In the department of Rhetoric and Or- 
atory, we have a gentleman well known for his long and thor- 
ough study of these and collateral branches, and for the suc- 
cess with which he has taught them in other institutions. In- 
tellectual and Moral Philosophy are under the care of one, who 
is not only honored by the literary .public, for his able works on 
ancient literature, but admirably qualified, in the opinion of all 
who are conversant with psychology, to unravel that difficult 
subject. Mathematics and Natural Philosophy are in the hands 
of one, who unites in an eminent degree, an accurate acquain- 
tance with principles, to a most happy and skillful tact in ex- 
perimental illustrations. The ancient languages are taught by 
one, who, to ample ability unites indefatigable industry and 
scrupulous fidelity, and whose long experience has taught him 
to select the most important points in his wide department, and 
to present them in proper proportion. And finally, to say 
nothing of aid from able tutors, I hardly need speak of the 
ability with which Chemistry and Natural History will be 
taught, by one so well known as is their incumbent, through 
the scientific world, by his able works, and for his skill and suc- 
cess in the manipulations of the laboratory. In short, can we 
doubt that the ability with which these several departments are 



45 

now filled, will satisfy all the reasonable expectations of the 
young gentlemen who come hither for instruction, and meet 
the approbation of the public. 

In the next place, the location of the College is an omen fa- 
vorable to its success. 

It needs no labored argument to show how many are the 
advantages of having it situated in the centre of New England, 
and among a population well known for intelligence, and for the 
controlling influence of moral and religious principles ; such in 
fact, as occupy the broad valley of the Connecticut. Nor need 
I stop to show how favorable it is, that the community in which 
it is immediately placed, have made such great efforts and sac- 
rifices to sustain it, and, therefore, take a deep interest in its in- 
mates, and in its prosperity ; and are still willing to do all in 
their power to promote its welfare. Then too, while we are 
slightly withdrawn from the bustle and exciting and demoral- 
izing influences of our great thoroughfares of travel, we have 
rail roads chartered, and in a course of construction, that will 
certainly be only a few miles distant, and will ere long proba- 
bly come to our doors : at any rate, they will be quite as near 
as is desirable for a literary institution. 

But one of the most attractive circumstances of our location, 
to the man of taste, — and every student should be a man of 
taste, — is the fine amphitheatre of scenery that surrounds us. 
How rich the gentle slopes of yonder distant mountains, that 
bound the Connecticut valley on either side ! How striking 
Mount Sugar Loaf on the north, with its red belted and green 
tufted crown : and Mount Toby too, with its imposing outline 
of unbroken forest ! Especially, how beautifully and even ma- 
jestically does the indented summit of Mount Holyoke repose 
against the southern sky! What sunrises and sunsets do we 
here witness; and what a multitude of })ermutations and com- 
binations pass before us during the day, as we watch from hour 
to hour, one of the loveliest landscapes of New England. Surely 
if there is any poetry in the student's soul, — if any love of na- 
ture, — they must be here developed. And how can he but 
cherish enobling thoughts and purposes, whose eyes are contin- 
ually feasted with such noble prospects ! 



46 

Last, though not least, the number and character of the grad- 
uates of this College, are an earnest of its prosperity. 

These are our epistle, known and read of all men. Nor are 
we ashamed to have it read. For though the paper was theirs, 
we claim to have had a part in moulding the sentiments, and in 
forming the letters, and the superscription. Now and then, 
indeed, -in any College, an individual gets smuggled through, 
whom the instructors regret not having winnowed out with the 
rest of the chaff. But of the seven hundred graduates of this 
College who still survive, how few are of this description. Not 
less than four hundred of them have devoted themselves to the 
Christian ministry : about thirty of whom are in foreign mis- 
sionary fields ; and the rest mostly settled over Congregational, 
Baptist, or Episcopal churches in our land, or are in a course of 
preparation for the ministry. A large proportion of the remain- 
der are established in the Legal and Medical professions. With 
nearly all these I am personally acquainted : and of them retain 
those agreeable recollections, which lead me to count with con- 
fidence upon the exertion of their influence in favor of theif 
Alma Mater. 

For these reasons among others, we may feel assured of the 
ultimate prosperity and success of this Institution. But I do 
not wish to conceal the fact from myself, or others, that at pres- 
ent we are passing through an exigency, of the character alrea- 
dy explained, that demands self-denial and sacrifice, and much 
wisdom and grace, so as not to retard the season of the highest 
and most permanent prosperity. And at such a season, I feel 
no ordinary reluctance to take hold of the helm: especially 
when I remember the distinguished character for wisdom and 
piety, of those who have preceded me in this office ; one of 
whom has just given his parting and instructive counsels. Con- 
cerning him, indeed, it would not be proper in this place to 
utter the sentiments prompted by the highest respect and per- 
sonal friendship. But I may reciprocate the kind wishes he 
has expressed for us, in the hope and prayer that the evening 
of his days may be as useful as their meridian, and far happier. 

Under such circumstances, the office to which I am called, 
can present few attractions to human ambition. With me, often 



47 

called in years past to assume it temporarily, as a locum tenens, 
it has not even the charm of novelty. And then, why should I 
desire to leave a department to which I am attached strongly, 
and where, if any where, I might hope for success, for one 
which I know to abound in onerous and difficult duties, and 
which exposes its occupant to severe criticism : especially, when 
after a struggle of so many years with an enfeebled constitution, 
I feel the need of a diminution instead of an increase of care 
and labor ; and had actually been taking measures for a tempo- 
rary release from my duties. The Trustees have, indeed, kind- 
ly allowed me to retain a large part of my past course of in- 
struction, which summons me often abroad into the fields, and 
the mountains : for they well know that it would be suicidal to 
abandon those active habits, which, for the last thirty years, have 
been as necessary as my daily food : and without which, I 
should long since have been in my grave. 

But all these difficulties, affecting only my personal conve- 
nience, I could cheerfully encounter, were I only convinced that 
I shall be able to meet the expectations of the Trustees and 
the public, in the successful management of the Institution. 
But here it is right to confess, that my judgment coincides with 
my feelings, in the conclusion that I am unadapted to meet this 
present exigency. My feeling is, 

Non tali auxilio, nee defensoribus istis 
Tempus eget. 

But I yield to the judgment of the Trustees and friends of the 
College, so far as I know it to have been expressed, and cheer- 
fully attempt the experiment in reliance upon able coadjutors, 
upon the liberahty of the friends of the College, and above all, 
upon help from on High. But should the result be, that my 
opinion proves the correct one, I shall gladly resume my former 
place, if wanted, or seek some other sphere to which I am better 
adapted ; nor feel mortified in having failed in a station to which 
I never aspired, which I assume reluctantly, and where my own 
judgment predicted failure. 

But though I enter upon these duties with a deep sense of in- 
competency, think not that I, or my colleagues, take hold of our 



48 

work with a faint and irresolute heart. Having made up our 
minds that this is the post of duty, we mean to stand firm by it, 
so long as God shall add his blessing, and the public shall pat- 
ronize our labors. We boldly avow it as our leading object, to 
make science and literature subservient to the cause of religion : 
and we will not believe, till a fair trial has been made, that a re- 
ligious pubhc, or the noble minded youth who come hither for 
instruction, will wish us to adopt a lower standard. We would 
not forget that this was the object aimed at by the founders of 
this College, and by all the benevolent men who have aided in 
bringing it to its present state ; and as we ply our oars from day 
to day, we cannot but be stimulated to effort by their united 
voice, crying in our ears, — 

Mlj dtlSiSij KaiaaQa (piQsig, x'ai ti^v Kuiaaqog ti'jj'iji'. 

If it be expected on this occasion, that I should say any thing 
of the principles on which the government of the College will be 
conducted, I must confess, that on this point I feel my incompe- 
tency more than upon any other ; and hardly dare lay down any 
positions beforehand. As to some general principles, however, 
my mind is settled. One is that the government should be, 
essentially, of a parental character. One important infer- 
ence from this principle, is, that public censure and disgrace 
should be inflicted as rarely as possible. On the other hand, 
private advice, warning, and expostulation, should be begun 
upon the earliest evidence of deviation, or even of danger, to 
the inexperienced youth. I would carry this principle so far, 
Ihat I would not bring the pubUc and formal authority of the 
-College to bear upon the case, until I considered it nearly hope- 
less. 

Another important fact, on which I would base very much of 
the discipline of College is this : Every young gentlemen who 
comes here, — with scarcely an exception,— knows very well how 
he ought to conduct, and how he must conduct, in order to go 
successfully through his four years course. And I would say to 
him, " here are our rules, which we have found necessary ; and 
if you join us we shall place entire confidence in your disposi- 
tion and determination to observe them. We throw you on your 



49 

own responsibility, as a young gentleman who knows how to 
conduct and can be trusted. We shall not exercise over you 
any vile system of espionage, or suspect you of any secret and 
dishonorable course, until forced to it by the strongest evidence." 
Now in the hearts of most young men, before they have become 
corrupt, there is too much of true nobility, to abuse such confi- 
dence, and meanly to violate rules which they know to be good, 
and which they have promised to observe. Let them be trusted 
therefore, and let not unreasonable suspicion destroy their self- 
respect and sense of honor. But if you are compelled at length 
to give up your confidence in the integrity of an individual, — 
and a practised instructor sees this very early, — iet him be pri- 
vately told, that since he cannot conform to the rules of the In- 
stitution, and is receiving no benefit from it, and the influence 
of his example is bad, he had better leave it before it is necessa- 
ry to make his case public, and while he can do it without dis- 
grace. And the more I see of College life, the better satisfied I 
am, that these private dismissions are apt to be delayed too long, 
both for the student and the institution. 

But I will not enlarge further upon this subject. A single 
point more, and I will relieve this exhausted audience. And 
yet probably this point is of more importance than every thing 
else which I have said. 

I have intimated that the principal immediate cause of the 
embarrassments of our College is a deficiency of pecuniary 
means. And it is very natural, when we find our hands tied, 
and every desirable improvement checked from this cause, to 
feel that this is the sole and the original source of all our per- 
plexities. Nay, we are tempted to exclaim, with the father of 
epic poetry, in a sentiment which none but a poor man ever 
would have conceived, 

XQvxsog av'oiYti navra, x'uiSti nv?.ug. 

But I am afraid there is a cause, and a principal one too, that 
lies deeper than this : a cause which has been too much over- 
looked ; but to which in fact, may be traced even our pecunia- 
ry deficiencies. I mean a diminution of that sense of depend- 
ance on God, and faith in Him, which characterized the found- 
7 



50 

ers of this Institution. The object with them that swallowed 
up all others, was to make learning subservient to human salva- 
tion : and in endeavoring to gain such an object, they knew 
they might confidently rely upon Divine help to dispose the 
hearts of the Christian pubhc to aid them. But I fear that we, 
who have entered into their labors, have in a measure mingled 
other objects with the great original one, and as a consequence, 
have been led to rely too much upon human plans and human 
wisdom. We expect too much from worldly policy, and too 
little from faith and prayer. When success attends our efforts, 
we think too much of the instrumentality ; and when we meet 
with rebuffs and discouragement, we impute it to any thing rather 
than to our departures from God. Indeed, among the numer- 
ous reasons that have been assigned for our embarrassments, I 
have never heard this named, which I fear lies at the foundation 
of the whole. 

If there be any truth in these suggestions, (and indeed, if 
there be not,) then the grand thing wanted among the instruc- 
tors and friends of this College, is, a deeper conviction of the 
importance of the grand object for which it was founded, and a 
determination to baptize every effort for its advancement in faith 
and prayer. Let us never forget, that 'promotion cometh neither 
from the east nor the west, nor from the south : But God is 
judge : He setteth up one, andputteth down another. How easy 
for him to blast the fairest schemes, and to prosper the weak and 
the trembling ! Nor let our confidence in Him, or in the pros- 
perity of this Institution, be shaken, because it has been called 
to pass through straits, and other conflicts may still await it. 
We believe that these storms in its youth, are intended, by a 
wise Providence, only to make its roots strike deeper, and to 
give its trunk greater strength, and its branches wider exten- 
sion in its maturity. Only let faith hold on firmly to the princi- 
ple, that God will assuredly crown with success every sincere, 
effort to bind the wreath of learning around the brow of Religion, 
and cheerfully and resolutely shall we consecrate ourselves to the 
great work of sustaining and advancing this Institution ; and 
though we shall not be allowed to labor long here, or elsewhere, 
yet while we live, and when we die, we may confidently utter 



51 

in behalf of its pupils, its guardians, and all its future interests, 
the prayer of a heathen, with a Christian meaning, and a Christ- 
ian spirit : 

Dii piobos mores docili juventie, 
Dii senectuti placids quietem 
RomulcB genti date remque prolemque 
Et decus omne [ 












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